


Negotiations

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hogwarts!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolyn has no interest in spending time with pompous, self-important Quidditch players like Hercules Shipwright. She doesn't want to talk to him in class. She doesn't want to run into him on the grounds.</p>
<p>And she certainly doesn't want him to ask her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

The approaching sound of crunching leaves drew Carolyn’s attention out of her book.

She glanced in the direction of the sound only to quickly cast her eyes back down at the pages. She let out a curt sigh and her jaw tightened as she prepared herself for the unwelcome intrusion coming her way. A few more steps and Carolyn could hear the low hum of a familiar tune.

Both sounds came to a stop when he reached the shade of her tree.

Carolyn refused to lift her gaze from her book as Hercules Shipwright dropped down effortlessly beside her.

“Ah, Carolyn. Fancy seeing you here,” he said as if he’d just stumbled upon her, despite their distance from the castle. “Listen. I was wondering... would you be so kind as to write my potions essay for me? I’m not sure I’ll have time to finish it, what with Collins running daily Quidditch practices.”

Carolyn spotted the curve of his smile out of the corner of her eye but she refused to be bothered by him. She cleared her throat, pointedly brushing dust he’d kicked up off her book.

“I thought it would be exceptionally easy for you to write two rolls of parchment on the moral qualms of love potions,” she said, without looking up. “They are your speciality, are they not, Hercules? How else would one explain the gaggle of brainless females that troll behind you through the corridors?”

“I wouldn’t call them a ‘gaggle,’” Herc chuckled. “And I hardly need love potions to acquire their attention; Quidditch skill and a bit of charm does the trick most times. Although,” he said gently, his tone losing some of its usual smarm, “I’ve noticed that some women, in particular, are too stubborn to see that it’s only their attention I’d like to have.”

“Too intelligent, more like it,” Carolyn scoffed, turning the page.

“Or too scared,” he mumbled under his breath.

Carolyn’s temper flared at Herc’s accusation. She rounded on him, eyes narrow and sharp, and grabbed him by his scarf, appreciating how the garment constricted around his neck as she yanked him towards her.

“ _Or_ ,” she growled, “too preoccupied with matters of _actual importance_ that have nothing to do with the childish antics of seventh year fly gods!”

To Carolyn’s confusion, Herc chuckled in the face of her anger.

He smiled up at her, despite the awkward position she’d pulled him into, his expression confident and smug. Carolyn quickly realized why he was smiling. She was talking to him, touching him, and making eye contact with him; it was the most direction interaction they’d had since he’d alluded to a belief that men were better Quidditch players than women were. In hindsight, and factoring in Herc’s obvious friendship with his female team captain, Carolyn saw how that comment may have also been made with the specific intention of inciting her wrath.

She pushed Herc away, shoving him out of her personal space, and turned her attention back to her book. She studied the words blindly, silently calculating what her next move should be.

“If I were to write your potions essay, what’s in it for me?” she asked, after long, quiet minutes.

“My unending gratitude?” he offered.

Carolyn flicked the next page as she turned it, expressing her lack of amusement with minimal effort.

“Fine,” Herc conceded. “How about an evening outside the castle? Off the grounds, away from all this studying, with the very best butterbeer and sweets Hogsmeade has to offer.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“I think not.”

“If you’re worried I won’t hold up my end of the deal, we can go before you write the essay,” Herc suggested. “And depending on how things go, we can just forget the essay all together.”

Carolyn looked out at the lake, considering how to act on Herc’s proposal.

She closed her book, setting it in her lap, and turned to Herc. She tucked her hair behind her ear, letting her features soften as she thoughtfully considered the smooth grin growing over his face. Carolyn leaned in slightly, drawing Herc towards her as he unconsciously mirrored her actions.

“I won’t like it.”

“I’m not remotely interested in whether you’ll like it,” he argued. “Also, you will like it.”

They exchanged contradicting looks but they did so from an increasingly intimate distance.

Carolyn touched a hand to Herc’s arm, feeling his muscles tense as she slid her hand up to his shoulder. Her hand moved up to the nape of his neck, curling gently over his warm skin as her fingers traced the edge of his hairline. Herc drew closer and closer, guided by the touch of her hand, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

Just as he reached out to touch her face, Carolyn twisted to the side, pushing Herc down and away from her. She used her hold on his neck as leverage and swiftly sprung to her feet. She paused for a moment to brush any stray leaves from her skirt before glancing back at Herc’s stunned face.

“Make it firewhiskey instead of butterbeer and I might consider it.”

She gave him a nod of acknowledgement, gathered her book in her arms, and turned on her heel to head back to the castle. Carolyn made sure to keep her head forward and her back to Herc as she strode past the lake, not wanting him to see the smile sneaking onto her lips.

That could wait for firewhiskey.


End file.
